


Five Words... Jarriere

by Sally M (sallymn)



Series: Five Words [10]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-01
Updated: 2009-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallymn/pseuds/Sally%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a challenge I was given five words and had to write ficlets on each for Jarriere (from the episode <em>gambit</em>. The words were <em>seduction, milk, blue, teenager</em> and <em>gravity</em>...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Words... Jarriere

**Five Words... Jarriere**

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**Seduction**

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He was the one man she couldn't seduce. He was the one man she couldn't even picture seducing. Probably the only way she _could _have done it was simply, crudely to yank him onto a couch and... and while her distaste for crudity was more assumed than real, even Servalan's glorious and shameless imagination failed at the mind's echo of that mild, placid, puzzled, "But I'm no' followin' ye, Commander..." 

****

  

****

**Milk**

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Fermented astrochoerus's lactic rum, 700 years old and counting, and worth more than a President's ransom. Ahhh... 'twas heaven, or at least would take ye there faster than anything in the galaxy. 

****

Jarriere sighed happily and leaned back, pouring himself another glass of the priceless nectar. So lucky it was that the _nouveau riche _that made up the High Council and their circle would not know the difference between it and plain fermented starhog's milk. 

****

A properly obtuse underling's life could be such a _comfortable_ one on the edge of high society. 

****

  

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**Blue**

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... is the colour of his true love's eyes. 

****

Or so the auld tale went, of he recalled aright. 

****

Jarriere, happily playing the upright and innocent ex-Federation fugitive, turned and beamed at the President of Lindor's radical daughter, who stared at him suspiciously. Blue eyes like the lakes in his beloved NuNovaScotland, like the charmin', beautiful, bluebuzzards of happiness that skulked and grumped near the lakes... like the nitro glycerine that had been used to blow up the lakes and the blue buzzards, yes, and then Space Command: old-fashioned but so satisfyin'... 

****

He could follow this... Tyce? - aye, Madam Commander Tyce anywhere. 

****

  

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**Teenager**

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Och, I remember being that age. Young, hasty, naive... thinkin' ye canna die or fail. Most of the FSA are like that, they take them young and kill off the excess. I don' quite understand the appeal. 

****

Just sixteen, when I met Madame Servalan at the FSA, and verra clear it was that _she_ would no' be dying for a cause, not her. _She _had a grander future ahead - places to go, plots to make, people to kill, all tha' kind of business. 

****

And to go, to make, to kill, she would need a someone to fly her... 

****

  

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**Gravity**

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The law of gravity, he had always trusted in it, always. Even the fastest and loftiest high-flyer had to fall sometime. Especially when a loyal and devoted servitor with a talent for pre-emptive strikes sabotaged her hovercraft... 

****

**

**\- the end -**

**


End file.
